Chapter 11

Charlotte sat up front on the big jump seat, close to Elena as the other woman tooled the big house car out of the city limits and along the freeway. Their children were in back at the folding table, playing cards and laughing over the music that swirled from a tape deck.

Leaning near to her friend, Charlotte said, "Do you think Jerry suspected anything, that he might try to have us followed?"

"My husband is a nut," Elena said, "and I wouldn't put a damned thing past him. But what can he prove? Nobody is going to come bustin' in on us in the middle of the night, so we're just good ol' buddies taking our lads on a trip. And with that kind of trip, who needs to be high on pills?"

"I'm kind of worried about Mark Travers," Charlotte said. "He knows my cousin, and he might get to thinking about the house car."

"So what again, at the risk of ruining a good line? I mean, he has no legal hold on you, and if you tell him to cut out, he can't grab you or anything like that. But I bet he's a fine grabber, and any time you want me to run interference for you..."

Charlotte had to laugh. "Elena-I swear you must be a nymphomaniac. You act as if you never get enough."

"We left too soon today; maybe we should have waited until tomorrow, so I could take the edge off young Blair. Hell of a thing, watching him and Jan screw, then not get any for myself. And yeah-I'd take a pop at Mark Travers, or any other attractive male who has a hard-on and no place to put it. I've got enough stuff to spread it around."

Charlotte smiled. "You goof. But I love you, anyway. I might even feel different about Mark Travers just now, but I'm not sure. He-there's something about a relationship with a man-a lasting relationship, that is-that frightens me. I'm still a very uncertain woman, Elena. I don't think I could screw Mark, not even after-after the things I've done with Blair and Duncan."

"That beats me," Elena said. "But I'll guarantee one thing: if you make it through this here now vacation trip and come back with the same hung-up thoughts in mind about Mark Travers, I'll take the pledge and enter a monastery."

Giggling, Charlotte said, "A nunnery, dear. A monastery only has men in it."

'You take your pledge and let me take mine," Elena said, and they both giggled like schoolgirls on a laughing jag.

Their laughter was echoed from the back of the bus, and Charlotte leaned away to look out of the window at the lessening houses, at the green of hills and the marching past of trees. She thought of the man who claimed he wanted to marry her, and knew that any such commitment to Mark was impossible now, if ever it had been possible at all.

She could not go to him, nor to any man, and hide the burden of what she had done lately. Not "that she regretted any of it; oh no, she would not exchange a slippery, gasping minute with her son's stiff cock inside her suctioning cunt for any of the hearts and orange blossoms promises of a restrictive society. But there were laws and mores, and society wasn't ready for them to be toppled as yet. Maybe some day, but that was far into a dim future, beyond the time when it would matter to Charlotte Mason.

There could be no marriage for her, no more than she was already wedded flesh and soul and heart to Duncan, and to Blair. Her pulse fluttered as she thought of the coming night, of her son's sleek young body easing between the covers and pressing closely to her own aching flesh. His penis would be hard, and his sac swollen, and he would need her with a passion that was part lust and part devotion. She would take him once more into her vibrant pussy, welcome his rigid cock back into the slick vagina from where he had entered the world.

Duncan, she thought, oh Duncan. Then she remembered that Jan was with them, that Duncan's sister still might not know of the strange liaison between herself and the two boys, between Elena and the two boys. Because Jan had been screwing Blair for some time now, that didn't mean he had filled her in on everything concerning his life. It might be that he would be afraid to tell Jan, that he wouldn't want to shock her.

Staring out the window, Charlotte smiled to herself. It was far better that her daughter had inherited her own raging genes, rather than the weak and sickly ones from the man who had sired her. like mother, like daughter; only the new morality had made it so much easier for Jan. At age fourteen, she was an accomplished fucker who knew what she wanted and went after it.

Charlotte suddenly blinked. Had Jan done it with Duncan yet? With her own brother? No, she thought; no, because Duncan said he had been a cherry until Elena laid him, and then he had been with his mother. And Charlotte wondered why she had said yet in her mind, why she had phrased the question of Duncan screwing his sister yet.

Because in this close kind of traveling, in this luxurious house car that could sleep six people, sex could not be hidden from the five that would be bedding down so near to each other. Some sort of sleeping arrangements would have to be decided upon, and of course Jan couldn't be ignored. Sometime this evening. Charlotte would have to gear up her courage and have a talk with her daughter.

"How far you want to drive today?" Elena asked. "Check the map and figure out where we're going to spend the night."

"Okay. Elena, I was just thinking about the sleeping plan."

Elena cocked an eyebrow at her. "About Jan, you mean. We're one male short, it looks like. After what we watched today, I don't think that your daughter will go beddy-bye alone, either. You going to talk to her?"

"I guess so. If she takes things the way her brother does-if he and I can accept it all-I mean, this mix-up with everybody..."

"Don't let it bother you," Elena advised. "Everything will work out, because you and me, we've got ourselves a couple of horny little studs that can keep a hard all night. We can share them with the girl, I'm sure. And look-you're not going into that incest bag again, are you?"

"No. It's no worse for a brother and sister to do it, than for a boy to lay his mother."

"No better, you mean-only different, right?"

Charlotte glanced back over her shoulder at the lads, at the shining heads so close together at the card table, their knees touching beneath the wood. She looked back down at the map and picked a campground more than a hundred miles away.

"That far?" Elena asked. "Look-I'm getting hungry, too."

"It's only a couple of more hours," Charlotte answered. "It'll be dark by then, and if Jerry and

Mark come after us, we'll be far away and hidden."

"Check; I don't want to be disturbed by any goof hammering on the door tonight. I have a lot of plans for my young man, and if he can last through them, little Jan is welcome to him."

Charlotte said, "Duncan mentioned wanting to see me with-with Blair. But not tonight. I-I don't have that kind of nerve. I haven't even done it with him in the light yet; Duncan, I mean. Maybe I can get crocked and reach the point where I don't give a damn if anyone watches, but not yet."

"That is land of far out," Elena said. "Putting on a show is a stud of a different action, I guess. Still, it might not be a bad idea, sometime. I mean, I dug peeping at Blair and Jan this afternoon-and you did, too. It turned me on so much that it was all I could do to keep from running out there and ripping off my clothes and piling on with them. Alley, alley-all in free!"

Charlotte was still poring over the map when warm breath tickled the back of her neck, and Blair said softly into her ear: "We've been talking-Dune and Jan and me. If it's all right with you and mother, Dune and I will kind of rotate tonight, move from one bed to the other, taking turns around. Mother told me that you and she watched Jan and me today, and that's what Jan had in mind; we set it up for you to see, so you wouldn't try and leave her home. Jan and I have been making it for about three months now, and when she found out about you-well, it just about blew her mind."

Shivering at his touch, Charlotte could find nothing to say. She could only look up the highway, and think of the coming night.

Dinner that evening was tense, also, even though Elena made jokes and poured a great deal of wine. Charlotte found trouble in meeting anyone's eyes, but she knew that sooner or later, she would have to face her daughter and try to explain the bizarre situation they were all in. That job would be so complicated, she thought, and helped herself to another tumbler of red table wine.

Elena drifted from the table followed by Duncan; in a moment, Blair was gone, too. The house car was theirs, Charlotte's and Jan's; Charlotte began to clear the table, to stack paper plates and cups for disposal.

Jan broke the ice. "Mom-there's no need to feel uptight about anything. I mean, you already know about Blair and me making it, and I can sure see what you dig with him, too. So if we can all swing happily on this vacation ... "

"Then you also know about your brother sleeping with Elena, with Mrs. Chapman?"

Jan used a wet paper towel to clean the table top, then folded it away into the side of the bus. "Why not? She's a lovely woman, and he could do a lot worse."

Taking a deep breath, Charlotte asked, "like me, perhaps?"

Jan stared. "You and Dune, too? Oh wow. I mean, wow! And I thought that people your age were out of it, kind of blah. But my own mom, swinging with her son and another guy..."

"As you said," Charlotte went on, "why not? Duncan and Blair have been enjoying themselves, since both of them have two lovers. But Blair has three; he also has you."

"It's so far out," Jan breathed. "I would have never believed it, but wow-how I'm goin' to dig it. An orgy on wheels, man. And all our own!"

Charlotte sighed. She was still mixed up, a kaleidoscope of emotions changing within her. On the one hand, it was a great relief for her daughter to accept the new sexual mores of her family in such an eagerly light-hearted manner; on the other hand, Charlotte wondered just what kind of situation she was helping to place her daughter in. Would her mother's permissiveness make Jan a totally bad girl, involve her in a life composed of nothing but orgies?

"This is something else," Jan said, moving restlessly about the car as Charlotte washed up the few dishes at the sink. "I mean, the three of us-you and me and Elena; and the two guys-Blair and Dune. You won't mind if Dune and I make it?"

The wine was heady in Charlotte's body now, stimulating her, making her not care too much about intangibles. "If he can do it with his mother, he can do it with his sister."

"Wow," Jan murmured, and Charlotte turned to see the eagerness shining hotly in her daughter's eyes. like mother, like daughter, she thought; Jan was just as sensuous, just as hot to trot; Charlotte wasn't sure if such genes were creative or destructive. There was no question but that they were powerful, boiling the blood and making the flesh hungry for contact.

"Tonight," Jan said. "Well all ball tonight. How-I mean-which way is it set up? There are only three beds in this bus, and I know it's supposed to sleep six. But how about that? You know, I thought I'd be sleeping alone, that the guys would be together, and you and Mrs. Chapman. Now, who knows?"

Charlotte was saved an answer because Jan bounded out of the house car and went skipping off across the campgrounds, looking like the child she still was. Except in bed, Charlotte corrected herself, except when little Jan was fucking; then she was no child, but fully a woman, fiery and passionate.

Somehow uneasy, yet not certain of the right or wrong of what she was doing, Charlotte drank more wine from the bottle to still her qualms. When she looked at things one way, she really had little or no control over upcoming events; not if she wanted to continue her relationship with her son, and with Blair. Once she had succumbed to her intense desires for Blair Chapman, she had crossed the bounds of propriety; when she had responded to the thrusting of her own son's sex organ, she had cut herself off from all the recognized blueprints of society, and would have to find her own path from here on out.

Someone opened the car door and ducked inside. She flinched in guilt, but it was Duncan. He said, "We drew for the beds. You and I get dibs on the front one. Are you ready to go to bed now, mother?"

She looked away from his handsome, intent face. "I-I've been ready all day. Just give me a minute to get set and draw the curtains." And heart thumping, she readied the bed and made it a private nest by drawing the curtains.

Slipping out of her clothing, she wriggled down between the sheets and thought that everyone would be able to hear everyone else-the sounds of meat sliding into the grasp of hot wet cavities, the noises of heavy breathing, the creak of springs, the gasped words of lust and love. It would be strange, but exciting, embarrassing but provoking.

The curtains parted, and Duncan came into the bunk. He'd left only one small light burning in the house car, and he was a shadowy figure. Charlotte felt her heart thunder in her chest, felt the blood leap along her veins, for she was about to know the penetration of her own son's cock, to revel in the forbidden carnality of incest. And she was trembling with the urgency of her needs.

"Oh, mom," he said, low in his throat, and she lifted her arms to him. But he did not come directly into them, didn't he down atop her aching body.

Instead, Duncan straddled her hips, one knee upon each side of her body. His hands came down and pulled away the sheet, so that his crotch was hot and hairy against her belly. He fondled her breasts, played sensually with the nipples of her tits, and Charlotte wondered hazily why he didn't just plunge his cock into her, why he didn't crawl in between her legs and drive his young, hard prick into the tremulous vulva that needed it so.

But her son wasn't ready to fuck her just yet. She felt him slide forward, felt his balls ease over her fevered skin, and knew the sensation of her breasts being pushed together, the hot shoving of his cock in between them.

"You have such great tits, mother," he said down to her. "Oh man, I really dig titty-fucking you like this. It's far out!"

His ass ground, and his cock moved back and forth between the mounds of her tits, the head of it dampened by his pre-seminal fluid and turning her breasts slippery.

Farther and farther the glans of his lovely young prick came, the blunt tip of it sometimes touching her throat. Charlotte adored it, and her fingers strayed in between Duncan's thighs to discover and to fondle the swollen sac that contained his testicles. His pubic hair was soft, but springy, and she loved that, too. Her lips pursed, and she touched them to the shining head of that marvelous rod.

Duncan gasped and hunched just a little more up her chest. Her tits were against his balls, then, and Charlotte suddenly realized that he wanted very much for her to suck him off, to take his darling cock into her mouth and draw the ejaculating love fluids from it

Of course she would, she thought, and without hesitation, opened her lips to allow her son's prick to enter her mouth. Duncan shoved it slowly and thrillingly into her lips, and Charlotte for only the second time in her life, tasted a man's cock. It was faintly salty, warm, good-and her tongue leaped to pay homage to the head, to lick around the spongy point and taste the flavor of his early oils.

One of her arms slipped around his ass, and her fingers caressed a cheek; the other hand cupped his balls, and Charlotte curled her tongue around the shivering head of Duncan's prick, then licked the veined and throbbing staff of it. Slowly, sensuously, her son began to stroke his cock into the cavity of his mother's mouth, rubbing the glans along the roof of her mouth, the shaft along her tongue. Charlotte sucked delicately upon the head, allowed it to slide back from her suctioning grasp, then pulled it back as Duncan shoved his prick back into her throat.

Lightly, Charlotte gnawed upon the delectable pole; sweetly, she licked its head, teased the slit there, allowed her saliva to flow over the slowly pistoning shaft.

Above her, his hands gripping her head now, Duncan said, "Oh-oh mom! Oh suck me, eat me, eat my prick!"

And she did, pumping her head back and forth upon the meaty thrusts he was making. She ate his cock, drew it into the velvety confines of her throat, caressed his balls and sucked, sucked.

"I-I'm coming!" he gasped, speeding up his strokes, grinding his hairy pelvis into her face, shudders rippling the length of his writhing body. His hands jerked, drawing her face strongly into his crotch.

Charlotte felt the hot spurting of his ejaculation, the geysering of the semen that splashed along the roof of her mouth and back into her throat. It was thick and slick, hotly sweet but faintly salty; it came in jets, each one diminished, each spurt bursting out through the head of his prick as it flexed, spat, flexed once more.

She swallowed it all, sucked feverishly upon his cock for more, and drained him dry, licking blissfully over the head of his throbbing penis until no more liquid came from it.

Only then did she allow him to slip his cock from between her lips, and she kissed his pelvis, kissed his hairy balls, before she would let him roll over to he beside her. How lovely, she thought; his sweet young prick was still rigidly erect as he lay panting upon his back, with his eyes closed and those long bronze lashes sweeping his cheek.

She felt warm, relaxed, almost content. She had just given her son the ultimate in gratification, the ultimate in intimacy, and in love. In love.